Ethically Speaking

0.1

•- Quincie Jackson-•

I adored the earthly scent of rich leather. The warming memories of a fond childhood come to mind as I trace my index finger along an ancient work of literary art.

In the earliest week of June I would often find myself surrendered to the earth's beauty. I would find my place on the branch of an aging willow tree overlooking the soft and vacant waters of a rippling river.

The sun cascaded down across the shimmering body of water. The reflective glow created an ethereal piece of art that was waiting to be depicted at it's most raw and beautiful light.

I was lost in my thoughts as I wandered aimlessly about the small compacted room. Leather bound books brought these exhilarating memories, ones that I could never forget should I desire to dream during daylight hours.

My index fingers traces the back of an aging book. The stories inside would surely hold tales of great adventure, or a tale of two forbidden lovers.

Those had always been my favorite.

I had pulled the book from it's rightful place in hopes of finding the pleasantries of ancient romance as I wait for the owner of such a prestigious collection to enter.

As I had done many times before, I find myself seated in front of a large oak desk that was centered perfectly in the room.

I slouched against the back of the chair and allow my body to become one with the soft and delicate cushion. I enjoyed times like these.

While my peers sat in their dorms, or in the library, studying for their exams and quizzes, I could sit in solitude with the intention of diving into the likes of high literature.

As I opened the book carefully across my lap, I begin to read the scribbled words written on the parchment.

I was sure to like this one.

Unfortunately, I found a pause to my time of solitude as the door opens with a echoing creak before the sound of obnoxious laughter fills the voided silence.

An inaudible sigh falls from my lips as I close the book against the top of the wooden desk. I was annoyed by this newfound distraction, but the sound of joy left my thoughts to be buried.

"Oh!" The first man to enter exclaims as he holds out a small glass in his hand.

An amber liquid swished slightly with his action and my greeting smile faded to a frown.

"I thought you were at your lecture already."

I shake my head as I stand from the desk.

"I had time beforehand and I figured I'd stop by. Maybe I should have called first?"

I peer behind the older gentleman to one who was silently stood with his head pointed down.

"Of course not, I always have time for you!"

I laugh politely before glancing to the glass in his hand. A sheepish smile overthrows his surprised expression and I could hardly contain the scolding that was destined to occur.